Darkfire
by SnowbellaAndFriends
Summary: AU/AR. What if Rusty and Tiny, who grow up to be Firestar and Scourge respectively, knew that they were brothers? What if they were raised together, and had taken on the forest together? How would the story change now that Fire is no longer alone?


**A/N**: FINALLY! After years of reading the books, memorizing the characters, and keeping up with the series, I'm finally writing a Warriors Fanfiction! :D ...Oh, hello everyone. Sorry about that little outburst there, I just am so excited for this story. Some of you might know me from other stories... if you happen to know those categories I write in that is. If not, here's my introduction: I am called SnowbellaAndFriends, but you may address me as Snowy. I am a fan of many things, but Warriors is a big part of my life; has been for many, many years. However, I only recently got the idea to write this story. This story is called '_Darkfire'_, and it's a retelling of the Original Warriors series, a 'What If' story so to speak. Completely alternate reality with some canon elements thrown in. Basically, it is the story of how I think the storyline would've gone had certain things been different. I don't want to give anyway any spoilers, so I won't. You'll just have to figure it out yourself.

There's gonna be some major alternate reality tweaks in this, but hey, that's why they call it Fanfiction, right? xD First off, while in the books it's seen that Scourge, evil BloodClan leader and Firestar's half-brother, is at least two years older than Firestar, I'm gonna put them around the same age. I was originally gonna use this plot for a different story, but then it all kinda meshed together in my brain. x3 Second will be the pairings - I'm keeping those a surprise for now, but I'm sure you'll love them. :3 So without further adieu, let us start! x3

**LAST EDITED ::** April 16th, 2012, some words added and taken out, some details added and replaced; new scene added.

**Disclaimer and Warning**: I do not nor will I ever own Warriors or any of the characters within. They belong to the Erin Hunter gang. As well, this story is AR/AU, so _please_ no comments about "you got that wrong" and "that never happened!" alright? I know if something happened or not, I've read and re-read all the books of the Original Series so many times the books I have are falling apart. This story is also rated 'T' for a reason - if you are of sensitive nature or hate seeing/reading about furry cute cats getting killed and mutilated, **turn. back. now**. Warriors is not always happy. And lastly, the rating may or may not go up. I'm very graphic in my details of certain things, it's a habit, and if the story starts getting too graphic or gory, I will change the rating. Thank you.

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><p><strong>Prologue ~ Brothers<strong>

"God blesses him who helps his brother." - Abu Bakr

* * *

><p><strong>{Of}<strong> all the things that could've happened... he wished that this had never been one of them...

The darkness of the night had never seemed so bleak to Jake before; it was as if his eyes were being forcefully pried opened to the coldness of the world. The stars and the moon were hidden away in a haze of light created by the human creations, the wind seemed to have a bitter bite to it, and no matter where he looked he just couldn't seem find the moon. What a dreadful feeling...

The tomcat took his gaze from the sky to glance down towards his paws, bringing his tail to wrap around the small squirming body between them. In spite of his better judgement, he gave himself a quick moment to admire the bright ginger color gleaming brightly in the dull starlight, the shade of color almost a steep contrast to his much darker and dusty ginger coat. Small pitiful mews racked the young kitten's body, echoing in his father's ears; cries for the warmth and milk from his mother that brought sharp pains to Jake's heart, because despite all his deepest desires, all of those things were something his father couldn't give him.

The story of what happened was short and bitter; Jake was a intact tom, and a handsome one at that. Every female cat within scent radius knew that much. During his life, he'd had many mates from all around the human's neighborhood, and all of whom had many kittens to add to his name. It was something any tom would be proud of to know...

But never before had anything happened like this...

As said before, Jake had many mates, and recently that had included a tabby she-cat named Nutmeg. Oh, yes, she was a pretty thing; sleek brown tabby fur, distinct white markings, jade green eyes that put his own to shame, and an adventurous spirit large enough to match his own. It hadn't taken long for the two to become acquainted, and an even shorter period of time for Nutmeg to conceive his kittens in her womb. He still remembered when she had raced to him one day, leaping upon his favorite fence with a glowing look about her face; that was the day she announced that she was to become a first time mother to him.

Her actions that day had amused him; that was the first time a she-cat had ever told him face to face that he was to become a father. Even now he could still remember the joy in her eyes, the fierce determination to be the best mother she could be to her new litter, and the tone of certainty in her voice as she spoke that oath straight to him. It reminded him of why he had taken an interest in her in the first place.

Sadly, things wouldn't remain this happy for long...

A week before, she had approached him and begged him to be there for the kitting, begged for him to see his new sons and daughters come into the world, and for once he was glad he agreed. The day of the kitting, everything that could go wrong did. He'd sat outside the window that was closest to her kitting bed, and watched the whole episode. At first everything seemed fine; then suddenly Nutmeg let out a screech that shot straight through the glass and into his ears and everything changed. Each kit that came seemed to be more painful than the last, and the blood... oh, the blood! There was no end! Jake was frozen in horror, terrified and mystified, his paws upon the glass barrier as his eyes stayed riveted on the scene, wishing - praying - for it to be over.

Then, with the birth of the last kit, it finally was.

Nutmeg lay there, unmoving, not even attempting to clean her new kits. Her body gave a spasm once or twice, and her eyes glazed over. Jake lost his breath as he realized what had happened. Nutmeg, the bold and beautiful tabby, was dead, the loss of blood from the kitting took her life so suddenly he almost fell off the window seal in his disbelief. This wasn't suppose to happen, she was suppose to live, she was suppose to be a mother, to care for her kits like she had promised. She wasn't suppose to die...! The only thing that brought him back from his thoughts was the sound of the door opening who knows how many minutes or hours later.

Walking out from his home, the tabby queen's limp form in his hands, Nutmeg's housefolk wore a devastated look on his face as he prepared to bury his beloved pet, leaving the seven tiny kittens she'd given her life for still bloody and uncleaned. The door had been left open, and Jake took the chance. Nutmeg was gone, there was nothing he could do to help her... but her kits - their kits - surely they could be helped! He leaped from his perch on the window and raced through the open doorway, not caring if the man truly saw him enter or not. He wasn't after anything else but what was his anyway.

However as he approached the bloody litter, he swiftly realized that this night of tragedy wasn't over yet. The seven kittens lay motionless, their fur covered in their mother's blood, looking like they weren't even breathing. One tiny body looked too small, too deformed to even be a kitten. Still, he gently drew the little blood covered body closer, nudging it with his nose and running his tongue over its pelt to clean the blood in desperate attempts to arouse it to life. But the mangled kitten was cold the touch - it had been dead long before it had left its mother's body. He shortly realized that his attempts were hopeless.

One by one, he went through the litter, drawing them close and nudging each tiny form to try and make them move, to give him a sign that something good had come from Nutmeg's sacrifice. Unlike the first, the next two were both fully formed and strong looking, healthy in appearance... but neither made any movement at their father's urging and were just as cold to the touch... He was beginning to lose hope that there was a light at the end of this darkness...

Then, as he came to give a halfhearted nudge to one of the last four of the litter, he was rewarded with a weak mew, so soft he almost thought his mind was playing games with him. The hope that flared in his chest outmatched any depression that was sinking over him, and he immediately started to clean the living kit with renewed vigor. To his greatest joy, the last three kittens had started moving on their own, breathing on their own, and trying to crawl on their own right in front of him. He couldn't help himself; he dropped onto his stomach, not caring or minding if Nutmeg's blood stained his pelt, and brought his four living kits to him, curling around them as he ran his tongue over their pelts joyfully.

The first kit, a pale brown and white tabby she-cat, began to get more lively under her father's attentions, and the other three followed. Just like their mother, two of the others were tabbies, one a bright silver color, so different than the first kit and their mother, and the other a white and light brown splotched color. Only one had a pelt similar to his, a little tom; the kit had tried once or twice to crawl away from his father, but Jake only gave a heartfelt chuckle before gently dragging him back to his side.

Before now, Jake had never visited one of his mates, nor had he spent much time with his own kits, but... Nutmeg was... different. All of his other mates had either upped and left him or stayed cooped up in their housefolk's houses. Nutmeg had wanted to be wandering around outside, talking to others and spreading the news to all who would listen that she was expecting her first litter. She was feisty, fiery, but she had the gentleness of a kit when she was in a good mood, and the roar of a lion if she was feeling temperamental. No other she-cat he'd met had ever been like that. For her to just suddenly die like she had... to know that the only thing surviving her was two kits from an otherwise stillborn litter... it wasn't anything Jake had ever thought of would happen before.

He had just finished getting most of the clots out of his look-alike son's fur when the kitten made a third attempt at wandering off. Jake gently grabbed his son's scruff to stop him before he got too far and was about to return him to his side when Nutmeg's housefolk re-entered the house and saw him. The harsh tone he used startled Jake more than anything, the kind of anger that comes from a deep sorrow seeping through the voice of the man as he came closer to the new father and his offspring. Fear clenched Jake's heart, the many stories of humans throwing their pet cats into rivers and streams tied in bags filling his head. Nutmeg's human wasn't normally mean... but all creatures great and small have been known to make stupid decisions in the height of grief...

That's how Jake ended out in the darkened alley with the brightly colored tom-kit from his union with Nutmeg. In his hurry to get away, he had left his three other kits, but had forgotten to release his adventurous son from his jaws. Only when he was too far away from the house did he realize that he'd carried the kit with him; the little kit had been silent the whole time, and now it was far too late to even attempt to make a trip back to Nutmeg's house. The human who owned Nutmeg was a kind human really, Jake knew that he would take care of the other kits, he had cared about Nutmeg too much to just let her children suffer... but what about this one?

It was too dangerous to wander around at night; violent cats, alley-dwellers as he'd heard some call them before, wandered around at these hours, starving and ready to eat their own kind at a moment's notice. A kit and a house-cat who couldn't fight if his own life depended on it - let alone his son's! - didn't stand a chance.

Still, the kit hadn't had a chance to feed at all yet... he'd starve if Jake didn't think of something fast. He had to find a nursing queen with kits of her own and ask her - he'd beg if he needed - to suckle this little kit, even if for one night, until he could be taken home. But where...?

Jake's green eyes blazed happily as the solution suddenly came to him and within a heartbeat, he had his son in his jaws, and was bounding through the alleyway. He knew exactly where to take him.

xXxWarriorsxXx

Sighing happily, Quince curled her tail around her three tiny kits, smiling as they suckled from her. Under the faint glow of the lights in her home, curled up in her warm, soft bed, the grey she-cat felt content with the world. Her housefolk's home was warm, and her stomach was full, she would have enough milk to feed all three of her young tonight. Now if only she could get Socks to settle down enough for her to get some sleep...

The sound of claws against the door startled her into alertness.

Fear crept up her spine as she stared and the wooden barrier that led to the outside. Quince was not naive, she knew of all the horrors that the wild savage cats could do, and she knew sometimes they came up and scratched at doors to get humans to feed them. Still, she knew she and her three tiny kittens were safe inside her nest as long as her housefolk didn't hear the noise and come down. Fear turned into curiosity at that point, and carefully she lifted herself up from her three children to see what or who could possibly be scratching at _her_ door at this hour. Heading to one of the tall, narrow windows that stood on either side of the doorway, she cautiously gave a peek out, angling her head to get a good look at whoever it was. Her blood ran cold at the sight.

"Jake?"

Her mate had heard her muffled exclamation through the window, and as he turned the look he threw her was one of pleading and begging. Quince recoiled at the sight of the fluffy ginger ball he held in his jaws, her dark eyes widening in disbelief. _'He has a kit with him!'_ she realized. Questions raced through her mind, where had the kit come from? Where was the mother? Why was Jake bringing it here? However, the chill she could feel from the glass of the window snapped her out of her shock - it was far too cold for a kit to be outside without some type of shelter, even with an adult cat. Quickly, Quince gestured through the glass for Jake to stay there; when she received a nod, she bolted for the back entrance of the house, where her cat door was located.

She nearly stumbled as she flew to the outside, racing around to the front entrance as fast as her paws could take her; it wasn't until Jake's form met her sight that she allowed herself to feel some form of relaxation, and with a gesture of her head, she told him to follow her back to the entrance. "We'll talk inside, it's freezing out here!" she mewed.

Jake followed obediently, angling his head so that the tiny fluff ball in his mouth wouldn't get hit by the flap of Quince's cat door as he followed the queen inside. Once they were in however, Quince rounded on him. "What is going on, Jake?" she hissed, her ears flat against her skull and her fur bristling slightly. "That kit can't be no more than an hour old! Where is his mother?" she was no fool as to ask who the father was; the kit had ginger fur like Jake after all. It didn't bother her all that much - many toms around these parts had many mates, some who had moved away with their owners, and some from failed relationships with and a few that were still around. She knew from the start of their relationship that Jake was no exception.

What bothered her right now was that Jake had brought his kit out in this cold weather _after it had just been born_!

In the face of Quince's rage, Jake hesitated for a heartbeat, unsure of whether putting his son down on the floor to speak was a good idea or not, but eventually he lowered the kit to the ground between his paws to free his jaws. "This is my son." he explained as he licked the kitten's fur. Quince merely twitched her ears as she listened to her mate continue his tale. "You're right, he's not more than an hour old, in fact he's less than that... but his mother... his mother is dead." now surprise did come over Quince.

"Dead? What happened?" the gray female asked, not bothering to hide the astonishment in her voice.

"The kitting was too much, too soon. There was so much blood... she died the moment the last kit was out." Jake explained, sorrow coming to his voice as he spoke. "Something went terribly wrong, three of the kits were stillborn, one didn't even look a kit..." he shook his head from side to side in grief, remembering the touch of cold flesh from his offspring, and their small unmoving forms still drenched in crimson.

Quince's features softened as she listened to the tale her mate had spun. Jake adored every she-cat he took as a mate, it was what made him special, and when he lost one by any circumstance he took it hard. Sorrow welled in her form for the kit's mother and her three dead children; vaguely, she remembered a tabby queen strutting around the neighborhood a few weeks earlier, the female practically singing like a songbird of her joy of becoming a mother. She felt her blood freeze as she realized that the queen's kitting would've been right around this time. _'She was one of Jake's other mates... oh, no...'_ she thought to herself as she flicked her tail to Jake's shoulder. "I'm sorry, my love, but tell me, why did you bring her kit here? Surely her housefolk would take care of him?" she mewed, tilting her head softly to the right in curiosity.

Jake shook his head again, closing his eyes. "I'm sure he would, but the house is too far away and it's too late in the hour. This kitten needs to be fed; if I did attempt to take him back, he would probably die from the chill or starvation, if the alley-dwellers didn't get us first," Quince stiffened and the mention of the alley cats, although it went unnoticed by Jake who returned his attention to the mewling tom-kitten at his paws. Gently, he pushed the kit towards Quince, his eyes pleading with her to accept him. "Please Quince, I'm not above begging you now. He needs food and warmth, at least just for tonight. I'll take him back to his mother's housefolk tomorrow if you wish, just... please..." he mewed, his voice growing lower and lower as he continued.

Slightly taken aback at the request, Quince let her eyes fall down to the scrap of fur that now rested at her paws. The queen couldn't deny that the kit was a beautiful one; his pelt was the same color as his father's, if not brighter with his young age, and seemed like it would be soft. A ping of jealousy filtered through her as only earlier she had been wondering why her kitten's pelts had not been the bright color of her mate's, while this kitten from another union her mate had with another female had inherited just that coveted pelt. She pushed it back just as soon as it had come, and with a soft breath, she brought the whimpering kitten closer to her. "Of course I'll take him, fool. He needs a mother, and I have plenty of milk to spare." she mewed, glancing up and Jake's eyes. "You can leave him here, if you wish - I'll raise him. While I still don't understand why you brought a kit out into the cold in the first place, I'm certain that his mother's housefolk now considers him dead." she meowed, watching as Jake cringed visibly at the mention of the word 'dead', but he recovered soon enough.

"Thank you Quince." Jake mewed, relief washing through his voice as he turned to exit the cat door. However, he hesitated a moment later. "But... your kittens are over a week old, aren't they? Won't your housefolk be...?" he didn't get to finish.

"My housefolk may be suspicious, but let them be." she mewed, cutting his sentence off. "I will still care for him as if he were my own. They might think that I picked him up from the alleyways, either way they won't harm him." she assured, and watched with a twitch of her nose in amusement as Jake visibly relaxed. "Now get going, I'm sure your housefolk are worried sick about you." with that, she gestured towards the cat door. Jake only gave a nod and a glance towards his kitten before turning around and exiting the cat door, disappearing to return to his own home and leaving Quince alone with her new son.

A nudge on one of her fore paws quickly reminded Quince of the tiny life that had been left in her care. A flash of annoyance crossed her eyes for a moment as she stared at him; sure she had said she would raise him, but this isn't exactly what she had expected for the night. Still, she had enough milk as she said, and one more kitten, young as he was, wasn't going to make much of a difference in her life. As she leaned down to grasp the kit's scruff, she was surprised by how strongly he resisted - for one only minutes old, he was very willed. _'Just like his father...'_ she thought to herself as she finally got a good grip on the squirming kit and carried him back to her nest. She'd have to suckle him soon if he was to remain this strong.

Returning to her nest, she was greeted by the sight of her two eldest peeking up over the edge, their eyes wide with curiosity. "Mother, why did you leave?" Ruby, her only daughter, mewled. "What happened? And what's that in your mouth?" her brother, Socks, nodded in agreement as their gaze trained on the tuft of fur she carried limply in her jaws.

Hefting herself over the wicker wall, she made herself comfortable around her three kittens before placing her new son next to her, nudging him towards her swollen stomach to for him to suckle. "Mother, what are you doing?" Socks cried out, his eyes wide as he watched her actions.

As the new kitten began to suckle, much to her relief, the queen then turned her attention to her own young ones, a soft look about her features as she mewed. "Socks, Ruby, Tiny, this is your little brother... Rusty." it had been the name she had wanted for one of her kittens had they come out the color this one had, why let it go to waste now that she had a use for it?

The reaction of her kittens, however, was not the one she had expected or hoped for. "Great! Another runt! And this one isn't even our litter-mate!" Ruby sneered, glaring down at the bright pelted kit in contempt. Her brother Socks also shared her same mindset, and spat at the young tom in distaste. Quince immediately cuffed each kitten over the ear, her eyes hard as she stared at them.

"Don't say that!" she growled, glancing down at the newly named Rusty, who had since finished his meal and as now curling up to sleep. "He is your brother, maybe not your full brother, but he shares the same father as you two do, and that makes him your blood." she wasn't normally this harsh on her kits, but after all that had happened tonight, she just wasn't in the mood to deal with this. "That's why I got up, because his mother is dead and your father was pleading with me to take him in. We are his family now." she meowed, her tone leaving no room for argument. Her eldest didn't speak up again, but their eyes hadn't changed from before.

"...his mother's dead?" small squeak reached her ears, and she turned her attention over to her smallest, youngest blood son, a black tom-kit named Tiny. His frost blue eyes stared at his new brother in disbelief and horror, as if he couldn't imagine what Quince had said to be true.

"Yes, Tiny. His mother is dead." Quince mewed. "She died giving birth to him and his siblings less than an hour ago. His siblings are safe at their mother's home, but he had no where to go." Tiny's eyes flashed up to her own, the same disbelief and horror slowly intensifying as he soaked in every word. A heartbeat later, Tiny had scrambled over to his younger brother's side, the flame shaded body just small enough to be covered by her tiny black son's in a protective embrace. Rusty struggled against his half-brother for a moment, but Tiny's gentle licks to his ears stilled his movements.

"He's so small..." Tiny's whispers almost didn't reach her ears, but there was no hiding the awe she saw in the runt's eyes as he stared at Rusty, the realization that there was someone smaller than he was now hitting home. By now, Ruby and Socks had curled up elsewhere, preferring to sleep rather than meet their new younger brother like Tiny had done, so Quince kept her eyes riveted on her two youngest, wondering what would happen next. "He's smaller than I am..."

Quince's whiskers twitched in amusement, a soft purr coming up her throat as all her earlier annoyance melted away at her son's gentle welcoming to Rusty. "He'll get bigger - he's much younger than you are after all." she assured. Tiny's eyes met her's once again for a moment, and then almost as if he'd come to some big decision about something, he curled up next to his brother's side, effectively squishing the young tom between himself and their mother. Tiny gave a few more licks to Rusty's ear before settling down.

"Don't worry Rusty," the runt of the litter mewled quietly. "Until you get big, you won't have to worry about a thing - Tiny's going to be there with you, every step of the way." Quince purred in her throat as she caught her son's promise, settling her head down upon their nest and curling her tail around her youngest sons. Now if only Ruby and Socks would be as accepting. Perhaps with time they would warm up to their new sibling; at least Tiny now had a friend.

xXxWarriorsxXx

"Ruby, get away from him!"

The gray kitten squeaked as a streak of ginger pummeled into her side, sending her rolling away from Tiny, who she had been tormenting only moments earlier. Rusty gave a kitten's hiss towards his sister before turning around to check on Tiny, nudging him back to his paws gently with his nose.

Four weeks had passed since Jake had brought Rusty to Quince's home, and as Quince had promised, he had grown bigger and stronger with each passing day. Tiny had stayed true to his promise as well, and kept Ruby and Socks from tormenting his younger half-brother for as long as he could, helping the kit learn to crawl and walk and being there for him when his eyes first opened, mewling out greetings and welcomes as Rusty's new eyes turned towards him for the first time. Quince had practically glowed with pride when Rusty's eyes revealed themselves. In fact, the only ones who had not been as joyous for the event were Ruby and Socks.

From day one, it had been apparent to Ruby and Socks that Rusty was Quince's favorite. She had always wanted a kitten with their father's pelt, and she doted on Rusty's own fiery colored fur, cleaning it constantly and making sure it was always fluffy and soft. When he'd opened his eyes, their resentment only grew - Quince had said that she could see the first flecks of green coming in, just like his father's eyes were. "Oh, happy day! He really is the spitting image of Jake!" she all but yowled to the heavens, her eyes sparkling with delight and sorrow.

In the weeks that had passed, word had reached her that Jake had since died, killed before his time by unseen circumstances. How he had died, however, she didn't know - some said his housefolk had accidentally ran him over in their machines, others said that he got sick and died, and one had even said that he'd been hit by a falling rock from the sky! Truthfully, it didn't really matter how he died, the fact that he was dead was enough grief for her heart.

It was for this reason that she was overjoyed to have a mirror image of her lover in her litter, and why her two eldest blood kits were so envious of him.

When the younger kitten had finally grown up enough to where they couldn't make fun of his size, they had turned on his age and the color of his pelt. Neither Socks nor Ruby bothered Rusty very much, but he could tell they didn't want him around and so stuck close to Quince and Tiny. Quince tried to make peace with her kits everyday, but it was no use; the jealousy and envy of Ruby and Socks made them unreachable for Rusty and their resentment of Tiny's size had never gone away. Quince feared that it was a lost cause, getting her kits to get along.

Then the day happened where it truly became an impossibility.

Before his death, Jake had spoken to her a little about the she-cat who had kitted Rusty. She now knew her name had been Nutmeg, and that out of her litter of seven, only four survived, with three being cared for by another queen owned by a friend of Nutmeg's owner, and one, Rusty, in Quince's own litter. Jake had been upset that none of the three other kittens were showing Nutmeg's feisty personality - "I don't mean that I want them to be mean, but... I thought for sure that Nutmeg's fiery temper would carry over..." - and was fearful that it had been killed off the day she had died; when he had asked if Rusty was showing any signs of that temper, he was disappointed when Quince replied no.

It would be three days after Quince was told of Jake's death that Rusty proved her wrong. Socks was being too rough with Tiny, and Rusty hadn't taken a liking to that. Just as she had walked into the room, she bore witness to Rusty tackling Socks off of Tiny, his small claws unsheathed and his milk teeth biting into Socks' fur. Quince had managed to separate her two sons, but when the scuffle was over she was horrified to find that Rusty had scratched Socks' nose and had drawn blood. "Rusty! That's your brother! Apologize now!" she had scolded, cuffing Rusty over the ear. To her surprise, Rusty only spat in his brother's direction.

"I don't care, mother! He hurt Tiny! And you know he doesn't care about me either!" Rusty meowed, his kitten fluff bristling as he stared down his now frightened elder sibling. For his punishment, she had cuffed Rusty over the ear again, a little harder than the last time, and placed him back in the nest, telling him not to come out for the rest of the day. Since that day, both Socks and Ruby, who had witnessed the event and had been just as terrified, avoided Rusty like a sickness, but the threat of Rusty's wrath did nothing to to quell their harsh attitude or their hateful actions towards Tiny... at least, that is, when Rusty wasn't around to see it.

Leading his sibling away from where Ruby was, Rusty settled down in a corner of the room, running his tongue over his brother's ears in a comforting way, but Tiny cringed away a moment later, surprising his younger brother. "Tiny? What's wrong?" Rusty mewed.

For the longest time, Tiny merely stared down at his paws, shuffling them timidly, before he turned his gaze back to his brother's. "I'm too small..." he confessed, shaking his head side to side in a sorrowful way. "I promised I'd be with you every step of the way, and I'm too small to even defend myself against Ruby and Socks." he mewled, seeming to close in on himself as he spoke each word.

Rusty merely blinked. "So? I was small once too, but I grew up. You're still my big brother, you just need to grow up a little more." Rusty suddenly jumped to his paws and playfully tackled Tiny, pinning him to the ground before he could do anything to stop him. "I'm strong because you _were_ there for me every step of the way then, now let me return the favor until you're strong enough. It worked for me, so it can work for you, right?" he suggested, tilting his head to the side in question as he stared down at his small brother. Tiny's eyes flashed for a moment, and unreadable expression falling over his features, and for a second Rusty thought he'd said the wrong thing. But his fears were rested as Tiny tried to push him off, his eyes sparkling with happiness and playfulness.

The two brothers spent the rest of the day in the corner of the room, wrestling with each other and strengthening their already unbreakable bond.

xXxWarriorsxXx

"Look, Tiny! There's a robin!"

Rusty's mewl brought Tiny's attention to the picket fence that provided a barrier from the outside world. Ruby and Socks were playing with a housefolk's kit not far away, but Rusty hadn't wanted to play with them and left them behind to stare out the fence. Tiny followed his brother's example - even though the game that Ruby and Socks were playing looked fun, he was certain he'd have more fun with Rusty anyway. Peeking through the break in the wooden fence, Tiny's blue eyes did indeed see the brown and gray bird with the distinctive red chest and yellow beak. Tiny didn't get why Rusty was so excited, but he could see a sparkle in his younger brother's eyes that wasn't there normally.

"I bet I could catch it!" Rusty meowed strongly. "If only I could get outside the fence, I'd bring it back and we could share it instead of that awful stuff the housefolk gives us!" his face cringed in disgust as he mentioned the tasteless food that the humans dumped in dishes for them every morning. In spite of himself, Tiny couldn't help but agree - he'd heard from other house-cats who had caught birds and mice that they were much more delicious than the mushy food, and since then he'd wanted to try one. Still, to travel outside the fence...

Rusty didn't notice his brother's apprehension; he was looking for a way to get out.

"There! The gate's open!" he mewed, and with a twist of his head, Tiny realized that the gate was indeed left open. Horror etched itself into his eyes as he realized a heartbeat later that Rusty had already left his side and had raced outside the gate. Tiny quickly glanced towards where his mother and elder siblings were, and realizing they hadn't seen Rusty rush off, scrambled to his paws and raced after his brother. Quince had told them over and over again that the world beyond the fences wasn't safe, and that savage cats roamed the wild. "Those savages are a scourge on the name of all good cats." she had said before. It had worked for Ruby and Socks, who were now thoroughly terrified of leaving the gate, but for Rusty it only intrigued him and it made Tiny all the more curious.

Still, Tiny was sure that Rusty would get himself into trouble if he didn't follow him, even if it was just outside the gate. He had never met a wild cat, so it was only his mother's words that he had to go on what they would be like. And there were safety in numbers, right? "Rusty, wait up!" he mewled after his brother, only be stopped by Rusty's tail when they were just behind the robin.

Rusty had a look of excitement about his features - he was practically glowing at the thought making a catch. He crouched as best as he could, using whatever little instinct he had in hunting to ready himself. He wasn't very stealthy really, being just a kitten and all, and in the back of his mind Tiny wondered if they should get back inside the gate before Quince noticed. But he wanted to see if Rusty could do this...

Moments later, Rusty, despite all odds and lack of experience, had made it to a short position behind the bird. His tail lashed out behind him as his ears folded onto his head, and Tiny held his breath. _'He's going to do it.'_ he realized. _'He's going to catch it!'_ excitement raced through Tiny's mind as he watched in awe of his brother, who was finally ready for the final pounce.

"Rusty! Tiny! Where are you?"

Tiny glanced away from Rusty as Quince's call reached his ears, but when he looked back he saw that Rusty was now a few lengths away, a couple feathers in his claws, but no robin. "I almost had it, Tiny! I almost had it!" Rusty cried, his voice a mix of disbelief, joy, and annoyance that he'd not been able to catch the bird. Quince had apparently heard Rusty's call, for she had leaped over the fence a moment after Rusty had gathered himself back on his paws.

"Rusty! Tiny! What are you doing outside the fence?" she meowed, anger and disbelief dripping from her tone. "Back inside now!"

They later told her and Socks and Ruby about what had happened, and had even shown them the feathers Rusty had managed to claw off the bird. None of them believed them. It would be the same scene when Tiny and Rusty left together to explore the forest days later.

xXxWarriorsxXx

"Hey, Rusty?"

"Yeah, Tiny?"

Looking to his brother, Tiny hesitated, blinking slowly as he tried to figure out what it was that he wanted to say. It was now coming upon their sixth month of life, and both had grown up into their bodies. There was still some growing left to do, and Tiny was still pretty small, but both brothers grew stronger and stronger each day. Rusty's eyes had long since finally turned into a full shade of emerald green, a perfect color to go with his ginger fur, and thanks to the rough play between the two, Tiny had put on some muscle underneath his small frame. They were slowly growing into full grown toms, at long last. And they both had a new home.

Adoption day was still a fresh memory in both their minds. Socks and Ruby had put on an adorable display for their new housefolk, and both had been taken in pretty quickly. Before leaving, Ruby had mentioned something scathing to Tiny - "She said that unwanted kits get thrown into the river!" Tiny had wailed to Rusty after Ruby had disappeared outside the doorway - and it had frightened him severely. Rusty had managed to calm his brother down enough to sleep through the night, but in the morning he discovered to his horror his elder brother was no where to be found in the house. An open window made him realize what had happened, and without hesitation he had leaped for the window and raced out into the yard.

With a bit of searching, Rusty managed to pick up on Tiny's scent, and followed it out from a hole in the fence into the forest, going deeper into the wooded area than either he or Tiny ever had. As he pumped his little legs harder than he ever had to, eyes flashing left and right for even a sight of the familiar black pelt or blue gaze of his big brother, fear was both a backseat passenger and the driver in his mind. While he was curious about the forest, he still was adverse to the many creatures that lurked around, many dangerous to the life of a young kitten. The thought that his tiny brother may have met such a creature was almost too frightening to think about.

After what seemed like hours of searching, Rusty had finally found his big brother... and his greatest fear. There, in the middle of a clearing, lay the figure of Tiny, injured and whimpering under the burning amber gaze of a vicious and huge brown tabby tom, who was snarling and raking claws that looked far too long for a cat against the ground threateningly. The sight of blood staining his brother's pelt froze Rusty's heart in his chest, and for a moment, he forgot how to breath...

...then, all too quickly, fear turned to rage. Rusty couldn't even remember running down and getting in between the massive tom and his brother, nor could he remember when his tiny claws had sunk into the adult cat's delicate nose flesh and ripped it open. All he could remember was staring into hateful amber eyes and that horrible hiss. Rusty stood his ground fearlessly, his tiny claws unsheathed so far it was nearly painful, kitten fur standing on end and his small tail lashing out in anger. Had he been an adult, it would've been a much more intimidating appearance. But as it was, it did nothing to help.

"Rusty! What are you doing?" Tiny's voice seemed so far away yet so close at the same time, his tone filled with enough terror to match the fear scent that filled the air around the three cats. "Get out of here! He'll kill you! Please brother, listen to me!" the desperate pleads fell on deaf ears, lost in the roar of blood and adrenaline as the much larger cat raised his claws over the two young kit's heads. Still, Rusty refused to move, keeping the barrier between his brother and the strange wildcat who wished them nothing but harm. He would not abandoned Tiny, even if it meant his death...

"Tigerclaw! What in StarClan's name are you _doing_?" and then, salvation came. Before the wildcat could lay a claw on either kit, another cat had come into the picture. A blur of black and ginger barreled into the massive tom with enough force to knock him down on his side, his claws swiping harmlessly at the air just inches away from the Rusty's head. Another hiss, this one angrier than either Rusty's or the wildcat's, viciously bit at the air around them. A dappled leg then came to stand protectively in front of Rusty and his brother, and Rusty's gaze darted upwards.

Before the brothers stood a tortoiseshell tom, his fangs barred and his claws out, a solid dark ginger tail frizzing and lashing behind him. From the similar scent filling Rusty's nostrils, he too was a wildcat, but from the look of things, he seemed not to be friends with the much larger - as Rusty could clearly see - tabby nearby. Still, it was a cat Rusty didn't know, and glancing behind him at his smaller brother's trembling form, he remained the barrier between the injured Tiny and the vicious wildcats.

"Redtail!" the tabby spat, rising to his paws and raising his hackles. "You'd take the side of intruders in our territory? That's the behavior of a traitor you know!" he growled, lashing his long tail in fury. The tortoiseshell tom, Redtail, merely growled in response.

"You know as well as I do that these two are only kits." Redtail answered, positioning his body protectively in front of the two. "They're probably lost, looking for their mother, and all you do is attack them! They can't fight! Have you forgotten the Warrior Code?" he asked, his own amber eyes burning into the large tabby, Tigerclaw, as he circled around the tom and two kits.

"I should ask you that question, the Code says we should protect our borders against all intruders does it not?" Tigerclaw hissed accusingly, flexing his claws threateningly at Redtail's form.

"It also states that an honorable warrior doesn't need to kill, and it says that a warrior may not neglect a kit in trouble, even if they're from a different Clan. Surely that also extends to kittypet kits. Besides, if these two don't return to their Twoleg nest, what do you think their Twolegs will do? Would you rather have our forest filled with Twolegs?" at these words, Tigerclaw seemed to recoil back a bit, a sharp hiss escaping from his mouth at the mention of 'Twolegs'. Rusty wasn't exactly sure what a 'Twolegs' was, but he supposed it really didn't matter as Redtail turned his attention from Tigerclaw to them.

Rusty let loose what he hoped was an intimidating growl, but it came out as no more than a barely audible hiss that Redtail ignored. The small adult tom craned his neck over Rusty to the injured Tiny, sniffing at the trembling tom-kit's injuries almost gently. "They're not deep." he mewed, an almost fatherly tone seeping through his voice as he glanced towards Rusty. "They don't seem to be bleeding anymore either, that's good. Still, the forest is no place for little kits like yourself. Come on you two, I'll lead you back to the Twolegplace." he meowed sternly as he turned his attention to Rusty, gently nudging the younger cat towards the direction they came from.

The wildcat known as Redtail had led the two back to the edge of the forest, carrying the traumatized Tiny in his mouth while Rusty tried to keep pace beside him. The other wildcat, Tigerclaw, refused to do anything to help the two kits, and disappeared back into the forest before they'd left the clearing. Good riddance as far as Rusty was concerned; he'd rather never see that tom again in his life. The trip was short and mostly silent, save for Tiny's pitiful mews of pain now and then when his injuries was jousted, and soon the familiar fence of their home was in sight.

As they approached the gate, Redtail came to a full stop and placed Tiny back down to the ground gently, eying the picket fence warily. "This is as far as I go, little ones. I suggest you get back into your Twoleg nest before you're missed." and with that, he went to turn around and leave.

"Wait!" Rusty's sudden cry stopped Redtail in his pawprints, the larger cat's gaze turning back to stare at Rusty as he approached him boldly. "Why did you help us? The other cat said we were intruding in your territory, and called you a traitor for defending us, so why?" he asked, green eyes staring up into amber bravely, but hindered with a curiosity that just had to be sated. For a long moment, Redtail regarded his questioner silently, too long in Rusty's mind; he was beginning to think he'd never get his answer...

"...I gave my reasons back in the clearing," Redtail began carefully, as if he was choosing his words before speaking them. "The Warrior Code says that kits aren't to be harmed, whatever Clan they are from."

"But we're not from a Clan or the forest!" Rusty meowed. "We're not wildcats, so why?"

To this, Redtail merely narrowed his eyes at Rusty, scrutinizing him from nose to tail tip. Tiny had by now come to his brother's side, pressing his dark colored pelt to his brother's much brighter one, the contrast between the two colors almost blinding yet seeming to fit together all the same. The display caused Redtail's gaze to soften slightly. "...I guess it's because I have a sister just a few moons older than you two," he mewed quietly, but Rusty heard it either way. "...and my mate is expecting our kits any day now. Maybe being a parent and a brother just affected me. Either way, I can't stand the thought of kits being killed, whether they're wild or kittypets." and with that, he turned back to the forest and raced away, not giving Rusty another moment to ask another question.

That day still remained in both Rusty's and Tiny's memories, the day they met a wildcat who wasn't as bad as they thought, even after they'd both been adopted into the same house to begin a new life and left their mother behind. How could either of them forget that day? "Do you think we'll ever see Redtail again? His mate should've kitted by now." he mewed finally, staring at his brother curiously.

Sitting on the edge of the fence beside Tiny, looking out at the forest as the sun began to set, Rusty remained silent for a while, but wondered all the same. "I don't know, Tiny. Maybe." he meowed at last. "It's a big forest, who knows where he is right now..." green eyes then glanced towards the darkening sky, the first few stars beginning to peak out from the heavens as the day started to turn to night. "We should be getting back inside now. It's suppose to be cold." he mewed, turning around and leaping off the fence edge to the lawn, Tiny following soon afterward to follow him.

"I'll tell you this though," Rusty suddenly meowed, his tail swaying behind him in distaste. "I hope I never see Tigerclaw again, don't you?"

Tiny merely growled. "Definitely. Although if I do, I'll rip his ears off. I still haven't forgotten what he did... I wonder if he's forgotten about us though?"

"Forgotten about us?" Rusty echoed. "I hope not. I hope he never forgets that a kit gave him that scratch on his nose!" That comment had both young toms purring in humor as they disappeared into the house, their owner closing the door behind them. Little did either brother know that, as a they nestled into their shared bed for the night, destiny began take form.

xXxWarriorsxXx

Out in the depths of the forest, in a secluded clearing that echoed with the many sounds of sleeping cats, a she-cat sat alone, her wizened blue eyes staring up into the endless night, seeking answers for the questions that troubled her mind. Hanging above her head, the moon shown down upon the forest, silver light playing with the green shoots that signaled the coming spring, and casting shadows where barricades stood and light could not reach. The grass beneath her paws was still dry; the morning dew would not be around for a while yet, but the night felt as if it had already lasted the course of hundreds of nights.

The scent of blood and herbs filled her nostrils even now, pained grunts and low hisses of discomfort reaching her ears as her fellow cats slept; they sounded like the roars of lions despite their quiet tones. Her Clan had just returned from a fierce battle with a rival Clan only moments before, and each of her warriors had come back with an injury, some worse than others. There had just been too many odds stacked against them, too little forces on their side, and her warriors paid the price for their unwavering loyalty...

"Bluestar."

A soft mew caught her attention, one blue-gray ear flicking back as her head turned to greet the newcomer. From the shadows of the woods, padding quickly and silently, a lovely young dappled tortoiseshell she-cat appeared, her amber eyes sparkling against the light of the stars as she dipped her head in greeting. "Spottedleaf." the blue-grey she-cat, Bluestar, mewed in response as the younger cat came to sit beside her. "How is Mousefur?" she inquired a moment later.

Mousefur, a young she-cat warrior, had returned to camp from the battle with grievous wounds, bad enough that they got Bluestar concerned for her. It had been the same concern that Spottedleaf had felt upon seeing the small she-cat in such a state, but she was quick to find out that their worries were unfounded. "Her wounds are deep, but she is young. She will heal. They all will heal." Spottedleaf meowed, and Bluestar felt a small bit of relief at the news. Blood may have been spilled this night, but no lives had been lost.

"For one so young, you are indeed gifted for a medicine cat, Spottedleaf." the grey cat mewed, turning her attention back to the stars as she spoke. "But I am troubled by this defeat. We have not been defeated in our territory since I became leader of ThunderClan. The newleaf is late, and we have so few apprentices in training, and so few kits in the nursery." she muttered softly, confessing each worry to her trusted medicine cat.

"There will be more kits in greenleaf, Bluestar, and more prey as well. This is only the start of the season." Spottedleaf meowed calmly.

"Be that as it may, training new warriors takes time, time we don't have." came Bluestar's soft reply, her gaze lowering to her paws. "If we are to defend our borders, ThunderClan must have new warriors." her gaze then returned back to the sky, as if it could hold all the answers she sought so desperately for. "Has StarClan shared anything with you Spottedleaf?" she suddenly mewed after a second, turning to the tortoiseshell again.

"No, Bluestar, not for many moons." was Spottedleaf's only response as she kept her eyes on the sky.

Suddenly, a shooting star shot through the stars, and Spottedleaf grew very still, her fur bristling and eyes wide. As the first star began to fade away from view, another star shot after it, and another, and another after that. Bluestar had by now turned her full attention to the medicine cat, her breath caught in her chest as Spottedleaf's claws unsheathed, scratching at the ground in a spastic way that had the ThunderClan leader worried.

Then, with a gasp for breath, Spottedleaf's head flew forward, as if she had just been released from something, her eyes closed and form trembling, claws still digging into the earth.

"Spottedleaf," Bluestar mewed strongly. "What did you see?"

For a long while, Spottedleaf could only breath in and out, trying to calm her trembling form. When she had gathered her wits about her, she turned her eyes to Bluestar. "It was from StarClan." she mewed. "The Fire that lights the Darkness can save our Clan." the prophecy was spoken in barely a whisper, her amber depths glistening and a fear scent evident around her form.

The change in the young cat's demeanor had Bluestar on edge. "Fire? Darkness? But all the Clans fear fire! And what does darkness have to with it?" she asked hastily. Something about this prophecy didn't sit right with her; the moment the words left Spottedleaf's mouth she understood why Spottedleaf had acted the way she had, something wasn't right.

Spottedleaf could only shake her head harshly in response. "I don't understand it either, but this is what StarClan has said." as she spoke, visions of fire and shadow passed by her eyes, the scent of smoke in her nose and the taste of blood welling in her mouth making for a sickening combination.

Bluestar warily eyed her medicine cat a minute longer, and as Spottedleaf came down from her shock, the ThunderClan leader allowed herself to relax again. "You've never been wrong yet Spottedleaf, so you must speak the truth. Fire will save our Clan..." she mewed as she turned her clear blue eyes back to the sky once again. But as her mind played over what Spottedleaf had spoken, and the she-cat's reaction, she couldn't help but wonder what exactly lay in store for her Clan in the near future. '_StarClan help us all..._' she thought softly, praying up to her warrior ancestors for guidance and protection.

But as more shooting stars crossed the sky, and with Spottedleaf still trembling beside her, Bluestar couldn't help but wonder if StarClan themselves were running away...

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** There we go, the first chapter of the story. x3 Okay, just to let everyone know, I'm only going off what I've read on Warriors Wiki for these ages and relations and for Tiny's past. Again, this is happening in the _Original Series_, the _First Series_, okay? I only own the first and second series and The Lost Warrior manga series, no other books from Warriors, so I'm going by what I read on the Wiki for help. I know that Redtail and Spottedleaf are siblings from the Wiki, and from Bluestar's Prophecy it says they were born in the same litter, but from Into the Wild, it implies that Spottedleaf is younger than Darkstripe... confusing isn't it? xD So for this story, I'm going to say she's about the same age as Rusty and Tiny, maybe two or four moons older. Sue me. xD

Also, I know it was Bluefur who saved Tiny from Tigerpaw, and that Tigerpaw was an apprentice when he first met Tiny, but remember this is an alternate reality story where Tiny and Rusty are the same age and are both going to be taking part in Rusty's story, so that means that Redtail is deputy right now, Bluestar is leader, Thistleclaw is dead, and Tigerclaw is a warrior in the storyline, so please, again, don't tell me that this didn't happen and such.

As for the scene with Bluestar and Spottedleaf, I tried to keep it in line with the book, but also tried not to make it exactly like in the book... I don't know if I did a good job of that. The prophecy is different because Tiny is with Rusty now, and I have big plans for what will happen. So stay tuned. x3 And there is a poll on my profile page to chose Tiny's warrior name... I kinda need some help with that considering I have four to chose from - tell me which one you like best and it'll be the one I use!

Anyway, I hope you like this. x3 Read and review please! This is Snowy signing out. :D


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